


The Lost Lestrange

by stormsborn



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bellatrix Lestrange - Freeform, Deathly Hallows, F/M, Gen, Half-Blood Prince, Harry Potter - Freeform, Order of the Phoenix - Freeform, Original Character - Freeform, Other, goblet of fire - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-21
Updated: 2018-11-20
Packaged: 2018-12-18 04:15:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 14,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11866494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stormsborn/pseuds/stormsborn
Summary: Bellatrix has besmirched the Black family name by falling pregnant during her last year of Hogwarts. Her baby has been taken from her. Due to an unfortunate circumstance after the birth, Bellatrix can no longer produce children and has no idea where her daughter is or if she's alive. This is the story of the lost Lestrange.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This will be my first time posting anywhere other than fanfiction.net so I'm very excited to share this story here.

"Mother!" Narcissa cried, her bare feet pattering on the hardwood floor of the Black family manor as she rushed down the hall to her parents' room. It was the dead of night when she had heard her eldest sister's cries of pain in her bedroom, calling out for someone. Andromeda had rushed to her bedside and commanded Narcissa to wake their mother. "Mother, come quickly!"

"Are you aware of what time it is?" Druella hissed, tying her silk robe shut over her nightgown. "You'll wake your father. What's the meaning of this?"

"It's Bellatrix…" Narcissa said sheepishly. "It's time."

Druella's eyes widened as the realization dawned on her and she understood, finally, what Narcissa was telling her.

"Wake the midwife," she commanded Narcissa, "ask what she needs and get it for her. Where is Bellatrix?"

"She's in her bedroom," Narcissa said before running down the hall to the guest room that the midwife was staying in. Druella started off down the hall in the opposite direction to the third room on the right, opening the door. Andromeda was kneeling by the bedside, Bellatrix gripping her hand as she carefully dabbed Bellatrix's forehead with a damp cloth.

"How long?" Druella asked Andromeda as she rushed to the bedside opposite Andromeda.

"We heard her about ten minutes ago. I'm not sure how long she's been like this though," Andromeda answered, her eyes not leaving her sister in agony. She resumed dabing the sweat off her sister's brow as Bellatrix panted and groaned in pain. 

Druella pushed the sweat soaked hair from Bellatrix's face as it contorted in pain as another contraction began.

"I-Is he awake?" Bellatrix panted, "d-does he know?"

"He isn't awake," Druella said, taking the cloth from Andromeda and taking over the duty of blotting sweat from Bella's forehead. Bellatrix's face, normally set in a hard scowl, softened in fear at her mother's words.

"Will I get to keep it?" Bella choked, fearing she already knew the answer before she asked. Druella's expression was grave. She didn't get a chance to respond when the midwife rushed through the door with Narcissa at her heels, holding towels and a basin of warm water.

"Mother, will I get to keep the baby?" Bellatrix asked again, breathing in sharply, another wave of contractions ripping through her. 

"I… I don't know, Bellatrix."

Bellatrix didn't have time to ask any more questions when the midwife took over, giving her calm instructions as the birthing process began. There were no sounds besides Bellatrix's gasps and cries of pain, the midwife's calm instructions and encouragement from Andromeda at her bedside. It was a long and painful process, the whole thing going into the small hours of the morning, before it was finally done and Bella had successfully given birth to a baby girl. Her father, Cygnus, had been awakened and so had her fiancé Rodolphus, who had been staying at the Black manor for the last few months of her pregnancy to be present for the birth of their child. The midwife wrapped the newborn in a towel and looked around, unsure of what to do next. The tension in the room was so thick it could have been cut with a knife.

"Give her to me," Bellatrix said hoarsely, reaching out to the midwife, "I want to hold my daughter."

"She is not yours to hold," Cygnus said, stepping forward and taking the child from the midwife.

"She  _is_  mine.  _Give her to me._ "

"Who is the father," Cygnus inquired, looking at the infant as if it could have given him the answer to his question.

"Rodolphus is the father. She is ours," Bellatrix said through grit teeth before turning to her mother. "Tell him to let me keep my daughter."

"Regardless of whether the father is your betrothed or not, you have besmirched the, otherwise pristine, Black family name by falling pregnant during your last year of schooling… and a majority of it.  _She_ has besmirched the Black family name. A bastard child. For that you must both be punished." Cygnus' voice was full of intimidation and power. He truly was the head of this household and he would be damned if he let his daughter tell him what to do. "My word is final."

"What are you going to do to her?" Bellatrix asked, sitting up.

"Druella," Cygnus called to his wife as he turned to leave the room, a signal for her to follow him out. 

"Mother," Bellatrix pleaded, catching her mother's arm, "Mother, please don't let him take her!"

Druella's expression was hard, cold and calculated as she removed Bella's grip from her arm and took the baby from Cygnus. The newborn cooed in her arms as she looked down at it. For a moment, Druella almost gave in right then, willing to face whatever consequences Cygnus would have if she gave in and handed Bellatrix her daughter. Her husband called for her once more as he left the room and Druella turned away, hearing her oldest daughter, usually so fearsome and stubborn, let out a choked sob as if she were a child herself once again. 

"Mother, no!" Bellatrix cried, throwing her legs over the side of the bed and stood, against the protest of the midwife, moving to go after her mother and her daughter before collapsing to her knees on the ground.

"Bellatrix!" Narcissa cried in alarm as blood pooled gravely on the ground between her sister's legs. The midwife cried out urgently, mentioning something about a hemorrhage of some sort and if they didn't get Bellatrix the proper care immediately, she risks never being able to bear children again.

Druella heard the echoes of the conversation as well as Bellatrix's cries for her daughter turning to desperate sobs as she left the room, making her way down the hall with the infant in her arms. She was almost certain she knew that her husband wanted her to kill the child and her heart wrenched as she looked down at the babe once more. The idea of Bellatrix not bring able to give them any more grandchildren after this child, a child that Cygnus most definitely wanted her to dispose of, almost broke her heart, the thought of losing her first grandchild seeming to outweigh the need to keep their family name pristine.

"I want that vermin out of my sight," he said, "I want it out of my  _home_."

"What do you want me to do with her?"

"Toss it out on the streets of Diagon Alley, kill it. Let it starve for all I care!" 

"Cygnus, she is our granddaughter!" Druella stopped in her tracks in the hallway as Cygnus continued walking ahead of her, her cry bouncing off the high ceilings of the foyer. 

"Both have brought shame and disgrace on our house! For that, there must be proper punishment."

"The father is her betrothed, Cygnus. It is our house with theirs, just as intended, and this does not change anything. They were supposed to produce a child after the wedding. I don't understand why - "

"They were meant to produce an  _heir_."

"So were we!" Druella cried, "But my father did not insist we terminate every daughter we had!"

"My brother has had sons to inherit the Black family name."

"And how are you so sure that Rabastan will not have a son to be the Lestrange heir? And if Bella should ever have children again, how are you sure she wouldn't produce an heir, just as intended?"

"I don't want to hear another word about this, Druella. Get that child out of my house!" Cygnus shouted and his voice echoed down the hall as he stormed off to return to bed, leaving Druella fuming in the hallway as she watched him go. She pursed her lips as she heard the faint sobs of Bellatrix back in her bedroom and Narcissa speaking quietly, attempting to soothe her along with the pleading of the midwife that they go to St. Mungo's at once. The child cooed in Druella's arms once again and she looked down at her granddaughter.

"I cannot bring myself to let you die," Druella said, rocking the infant in her arms, "but you are forbidden to stay here… so what shall I do with you?"

The baby yawned and Druella sighed, heading down the stairs and outside, disapperating with the infant.


	2. Chapter 2

"What do you think it'll feel like?" Desdemona asked, her curls cascading down as she hung upside down from the edge of her brothers bed, next to where he was sitting on the floor. She was a girl of 16, with dark hair and blue eyes that seemed to contrast quite strikingly with the darkness of her curly hair.

"It'll hurt," Dmitri said, rubbing his arm as he spoke like he had already been marked. "I've heard it feels like a white hot branding iron to your arm. Like a thousand white hot branding irons to your arm… and I heard it itches like mad for days afterward."

"I bet it won't be that bad. You're just kind of a wimp." Dmitri did not take kind to Des scoffing at him and pulled his sleeve down, as if already hiding the mark he'd yet to obtain.

"You can't speak for something you've never experienced. I don't see why you want one so bad anyway."

It had been so long since Desdemona Dolohov had seen her brother and she'd been trying to get him to talk since he'd gotten home. He'd been avoiding the subject but she finally cornered him in his room. It had been almost a year and a half since Dmitri had been home, off doing Merlin knows what for their father before he was deemed ready to receive a mark of his own. All Desdemona had wanted to know was what it was like being with others who had already been marked, hardly a tough question to answer in her opinion.

"I want one because it'll mean something," Desdemona said simply, holding up her left arm. The skin was pale and unmarked and she ran her finger down her forearm, tracing out the pattern that the Dark Mark would make on her skin.

"It'll mean you're another cog in the war machine," Dmitri said, "hardly a place for a lady."

"You say that like I'm fragile… like some dainty porcelain doll."

"If you were a real lady, you would be," Dmitri said before Des promptly punched him in the arm. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding. I say it because you're my sister and the battlefield is no place for women of any kind, fragile or otherwise."

"It is for one woman."

"She doesn't count, she's absolutely insane. She's also still in prison so, technically, she isn't even on the battlefield. See? No women."

"If she could before she got arrested, I can too," Des said, rolling her eyes and standing from Dmitri's bed. "I've been begging mum and dad but I know they aren't even close to saying yes. They've always liked you more."

Ever since they were small, the favorite of their parents had always been obvious… and it wasn't Desdemona. Dmitri was the heir and she was just the second child… not to mention, she was a girl. Women never amounted to much in pureblood society. They were meant to be pretty wives while their husbands got to have all the glory. That was not a life that Des wanted to live.

"It isn't about them liking me more, it's about who is the heir to the Dolohov name. It's classic hierarchy in family politics. Can we drop the subject please?" Dmitri pleaded, "I haven't been home in so long and I'd prefer you didn't guilt trip me about Marks or favoritism. I'd like to enjoy my time at home."

Desdemona sighed, figuring her brother was right. He'd just spent a year and a half living every question she'd asked day after day. The last thing he wanted to do was relive it on his time at home.

"Sorry," she mumbled, rolling over on his bed to lay on her back.

"Miss Dolohov?" a timid voice called from the doorway. Desdemona turned, their house elf at the threshold.

"Yes, Impa?" she said impatiently, crossing her arms.

"Master and Mrs. Dolohov request your presence in the formal dining room."

Desdemona sighed, gnawing on the inside of her cheek as she tried to figure out what she could have done this time.

"We'll talk more later," Dmitri said, "You should probably see what they want. Formal dining room's a big deal."

Des gave him a half smile before turning on her heels and walking out of the room, padding down the stairs before turning the corner and stopping at the threshold of the dining room where her parents were. They were sitting at the end of the long table they had their formal dinners on, talking in hushed tones. This couldn't have been good…

Des cleared her throat, catching her parents' attention.

"Desdemona... please sit down," her mother said gesturing to the chair across from her.

Des hesitated before entering the dining room and sitting down next to her father and across from her mother.

"What's this about?" she asked tentatively, looking back and forth between her parents.

"We've got something to discuss with you," Mr. Dolohov said.

"Pertaining to…"

"The Dark Lord."

Desdemona went quiet. She never thought this conversation would come. She figured that Death Eater business was more for the men than the women, who were meant to stay home and throw dinner parties and be pretty housewives. Des had hoped that this conversation would come someday. She'd never wanted to be the wife that stayed home. She sat up, fully attentive at what her father was going to say, careful not to get her hopes so high up.

"What about the Dark Lord?"

"It pertains to the Dark Lord and your future."

"What about my future?"

"You've expressed interest in joining the legion… multiple times… a day. And I've come to my decision."

"And that decision is?"

"Let me finish please, Desdemona," her father said, "There are big things happening this year regarding the Dark Lord and he's going to need as many loyal followers as possible when he returns. The Malfoys are considering having Draco marked when he comes of age in two years… or even before he comes of age. Your mother and I have decided that, since you'll be coming of age in the very near future, there may be a slight possibility that you may be able to join the legion."

Desdemona's smile slowly got wider and wider with each word.

"Of course, someone would have to convince the Dark Lord to let another woman join. Cygnus Black had to pull very many strings to let Bellatrix Lestrange into the inner circle.

"But just being considered is the greatest honor I've ever been offered!"

"There is… one other thing," her mother added on.

Desdemona's smile faltered. She had a feeling that this wouldn't be good. They sweetened the deal with the good news so the bitterness of the bad news wouldn't be noticed.

"What…?"

Her parents looked at each other before turning back to her.

"There's something we've been needing to tell you for quite a while and, now that you're almost seventeen, we figured it was a good time to tell you."


	3. Chapter 3

"So… you're adopted?" Anya Yaxley asked, lounging on her seat in their compartment on the Hogwarts Express. They were now well on their way to Hogwarts and the countryside was flying by outside the window as Des and her closest friend shared the train compartment. The sounds of excited students and the candy lady making her way down the train were muffled by their compartment door, which Desdemona had promptly shut tight after buying some cauldron cakes and licorice wands.

"I guess that's what they meant, yeah," Des said quietly from the seat across Anya, playing with the ends of her dark hair as she looked out the window. She could see a dark cloud hovering in the air in the direction they were heading. It must have been a hell of a storm coming to wreck their first night back.

"It would explain why they were so quick to decide on whether you would get marked," Anya added. "Are you going to tell Gemma? Or Thomas?"

"No, of course not! Why would I want this getting around?" Des snapped.

"What about your brother? What did he say?"

"He didn't exactly own up to it. I don't think he thought I would ever find out."

It was difficult to forget the conversation Desdemona had had with her parents that day, considering it was all she could think about since they told her.

* * *

_"There's something we've needed to tell you for quite a while now and, now that you're almost seventeen, we figured it was a good time to tell you."_

_Des looked nervously between her parents, worried about what was going to come out of their mouths next. This news didn't seem to be very good, judging by the grave look on her parents' faces._

_"It's taken us a great deal of time to decide just when and how we were going to do this…" her father began, "but seeing that you are almost of age and could possibly be getting Marked upon the Dark Lord's return, we believe that you'll be mature enough to understand what it is we're about to tell you."_

_Desdemona felt her stomach churn. What had taken them so long to say? She couldn't possibly imagine anything being so difficult to tell her that they had to wait until she was of age._

" _We want you to understand that we love you and have always cared for you, Desdemona," her mother started, "but seeing that you are coming of age soon, we figured that now would be the time that we told you about the night that we… found you."_

_"Found me?" Des asked, confused at the information. What did they mean found her?_

_"The day you were left on our doorstep," her father said._

_Des looked between her parents, more puzzled than ever, before her mother broke the silence._

_"Dmitri had just turned three the week before the night we found you. He was still receiving gifts and would answer the door every time to see if it was for him. One night, particularly late, the doorbell rang. Dmitri heard it and ran out of bed, rushing to answer before the house elves could. He came to our bedroom with Impa, who was holding you in her arms, and said someone had given him a baby," her mother said. "Your father and I were alarmed, thinking he was mistaking something else, when you started crying. We had just lost a child and, right away, I decided that we would take you in and raise you as our own."_

_Desdemona sat in complete and utter shock, her mouth hanging ajar as she processed what her mother had just said. This meant that she was not a Dolohov by blood._

" _I'm not… your daughter?" Des finally stammered out, throat suddenly dry._

" _You are our daughter," her father said, "perhaps not biologically, but in every other way."_

" _Not the one that matters," Des said standing from her seat and storming from the dining room, leaving her parents to sit silently at the table. In a society that looks so deeply into the purity of blood, Desdemona would be an outcast if anyone found out. She was raised on the importance of blood purity and keeping the oldest wizarding families pure of blood but now she didn't know what she was. Was whoever had given her up a pureblood? Was she half-blooded? Was she a Muggleborn, even? Thoughts of not coming from any family other than a magical one plagued her mind as she rushed up the stairs, charging back into her brother's room with tears stinging her eyes._

_"Des… what's the matter?"_

_"You knew," she said, her voice wobbling as the hurt overpowered the anger she felt._

_"What are you–"_

_"You knew and you never told me!" Des screamed, losing the battle as her tears spilled down her cheeks._

_"I don't know–"_

_"You found me on the doorstep! I wasn't even part of this family and you knew the whole time!" Des cried, her voice cracking. She'd never felt more betrayed. She'd trusted Dmitri more than anyone and he'd lied to her for her whole life._

_He'd been quiet after that… and that's how Des knew she was right. He had known and it was obvious he hadn't thought she would find out._

" _It wasn't my place to tell you, Desdemona," he said, "it was not something you should have heard from me."_

_Des shook her head at him, turning around and storming out of his room and down the halls to hers, slamming the door behind her.  
_

* * *

Des hadn't spoken to her parents or Dmitri for weeks after that, only eating in her room when the house elves brought her meals up. They were wise not to try and get her to talk because their efforts would have been pointless. It'd taken until September 1st for her to talk to any of them and the first word she had said to them in weeks had been 'goodbye.'

"You don't think you're being a bit too harsh about this?" Anya asked, "I mean, they did raise you. They could have left you outside or dumped you on someone else's doorstep that night. They didn't have to keep you."

"That isn't the point!" Des said, "The point is that they waited for so long!"

"Because they thought you were mature enough to handle this kind of information." Anya said, "Evidently, you aren't. I would cut them some slack. They're you're parents."

"No, they aren't."

"You know what I mean, Des."

"How would you feel if your parents sat you down and told you that you had been found on a doorstep one night? I don't know anything anymore, Anya. For all I know, I could have been Muggleborn! How would  _you_  feel?"

"I'd be pretty upset," Anya admitted in defeat.

"Exactly. You'd be upset. And the one person you trust the most in the whole world didn't bother to tell you any of this, either. How would you feel then?"

"I get it, Des, you're upset. It's going to take you a while to get over it. I. Get. It."

Anya refused to hear any more of it and left the compartment to change into her school robes, leaving Desdemona alone with nothing but silence aside from the sound of the train barreling down the tracks and the pouring rain that had suddenly started. Des took her time alone to change into hers, mulling over the conversation with Anya. She wouldn't get it. She'd never get it. She came from a long line of pureblooded witches and wizards, part of one of those families that trimmed every blemish off the family tree. She was sure of her heritage and where she came from.

"For fuck's sake, I'm going through an identity crisis," she mumbled to herself as she straightened her Slytherin tie. She had no idea where she had come from and it's not like she had any leads to go on. She finished dressing and Anya came back, the mood between them still tense as Des got over her sensitivity about her "adoption." She'd just have to keep it a secret while at school for her last year. No way was she going to let the fact that she was no real Dolohov spread around the Slytherins. Her house was ruthless and would never let her live it down.

"Come on then," Anya said, getting up and packing her things without looking at her, "don't want to miss the carriages in this rain."

Des got up as well, slinging her bag over her shoulder as the train began to slow at Hogsmeade station. She looked out the window and up at Hogwarts, the lights beginning to glow in the dusk. She felt the train come to a full stop and left the compartment, preparing for a carriage ride up to the school and her last year at Hogwarts as a completely different person.


	4. Chapter 4

The carriage ride up to the castle wasn't pleasant. It was absolutely pouring rain by the time they had gotten off the train, leaving Des and Anya soaked to the bone after they had sprinted from the shelter of the station to an open carriage. It was awkward after Des' argument with Anya. Anya refused to even look at her and Des couldn't help but feel the slightest bit guilty for it. She was never going to apologize first, however. It wasn't how things worked. Des wouldn't apologize until she was truly desperate for her best friend back, even if it meant complete silence in each other's presence. Des was never one to swallow her pride and neither was Anya... the two of them were in for a long period of silence.

It was the usual bustle of students, with the exception that the rain was making it much worse. Anya and Des scurried up the steps, thankfully being some of the first up the steps and into the warmth of the castle, as she heard the familiar cackle of Peeves the Poltergeist before a water bomb dropped behind them, soaking their backs with freezing water.

She could already feel herself becoming more and more irritated.

It was with a deep breath and her mind already set on being annoyed the whole night that she entered the Great Hall, her mouth twisting into a low frown. There were already hundreds of students at their respective tables. The ceiling, bewitched to look like the sky outside, was stormy and though she was warming up with the heat in the room, she couldn't help but shiver as a bright flash of forked lightning jumped across the ceiling, following by a massive clap of thunder. Her stomach growled, almost as loud as that thunderclap, and she could already feel the pounding headache she would get from hunger as well as the noise of running mouths that resonated off the hall's towering walls. "Bloody hell, there'd better be a small batch of firsties this year." Des muttered to herself, quickly wishing she and Anya were speaking so she could make a joke about eating Annastel Brub instead of waiting for the feast to have Anya whisper back that Annastel couldn't possibly be edible, what with how bony she was, and they should opt to eat the Crabbe boy instead.

There was a faint feeling of loneliness before Des focused on something else beside her hunger and her lack of a best friend. She sat down across from Draco, supposedly one of the only people left she didn't completely despise yet... though that was subject to change, considering that Draco himself had become quite annoying, what with his constant whining about Potter.

She and Draco had very different reasons for their dislike of Harry Potter. Draco was jealous of how much attention he got and Des despised him for what he'd done to the Dark Lord, just as her parents had raised her. She was not taught to feel any other way for the Boy Who Lived (only out of dumb luck, in her opinion) and she wasn't going to change her opinion anytime soon.

She groaned at the opening of the doors, the sound masked by the groaning of the doors themselves, as McGonagall walked in. "I swear, each group of first years is bigger than the last," she mumbled, preparing herself for a long sorting. It eventually ended... and it couldn't have taken more than half an hour but it seemed to drag on longer and longer after each name was called due to Des's hunger and exhaustion. Finally, the opening remarks were made and the food rose from the empty platters in front of them. Des let out a sigh and began to eat, finally filling her stomach after a long, long day.

It was when they were all full and content that a Professor Dumbledore stood to make another announcement. Des sighed. She was full now and all she wanted to do was go up to her dorm, where nobody could bother her, and sleep off the frustrations of the last month. She knew that the house elves warmed the beds before they all went up to their rooms and just imagining herself falling into that warm bed and wrapping herself up in her plush blanket she'd brought from home made her even sleepier. "Announcement," she scoffed, turning in her seat and becoming extremely preoccupied with her nails.

Blah, blah, blah, notices. Blah, blah, blah, Forbidden Forest is off limits. Blah, blah, blah, no Quidditch Cup.

What?

"Shit, wait, Draco, what did he say?" Des said, turning sharply to the younger Malfoy boy.

"There won't be a Quidditch Cup this year," Draco said, looking displeased.

"What? Why?"

"Something about an event during the year starting in October," Draco said, waving it off. Des was about to ask something else when there was a large clap of thunder and the Great Hall doors banged open to reveal a man leaning on a walking stick. He made his way down the aisle between tables, a dull  _thunk_  sounding every other step he took. He was grotesque. His face scarred so terribly his own mother probably didn't recognize him. One eye was small but the other was large and moved of its own accord. The whole hall watched as he reached Dumbledore, reaching out a gnarled hand for Dumbledore to reach out and shake before Dumbledore gestured to an empty seat along the professors' table. Des gave the man an uneasy look before Dumbledore gained the attention of the room once more by announcing this man as Professor Moody, the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, his announcement being met with silence.

He moved on to a more exciting topic, announcing that the Tri-Wizard Tournament would be taking place at Hogwarts that year and being met with a jeer from the Gryffindor table that caused the entire hall to erupt in laughter, breaking the tension from earlier. The announcement caught Desdemona's attention, looking up as he explained the tournament and what it entailed.

"The Triwizard Tournament was first established some seven hundred years ago as a friendly competition between the three largest European schools of wizardry: Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang. A champion was selected to represent each school, and the three champions competed in three magical tasks. The schools took it in turns to host the tournament once every five years, and it was generally agreed to be a most excellent way of establishing ties between young witches and wizards of different nationalities — until, that is, the death toll mounted so high that the tournament was discontinued."

_Death toll?_

Desdemona looked over at Draco, who was now sitting upright and paying complete attention to Dumbledore. She looked at Anya a few feet down the table who was most likely gushing with Pansy Parkinson about the Durmstrang boys. Des looked back to see Draco's face fall at Dumbledore began to explain the age restriction. He went on to explain some other rules about the tournament and she soon lost interest, remembering how exhausted she was. She nearly cheered when Dumbledore dismissed them all and wished them a good night and practically skipped toward the dungeons to prepare for bed. Rest was all she needed.

She was the first girl back to the dorms, the rest opting to catch up in the common room, and that gave her the privacy she needed to change and crawl into bed. It wasn't too long after when Anya came up. Des, in all her stress, had forgotten the two of them even lived in the same dorm. Des was quiet, turned on her side away from Anya as she crawled into the bed next to hers. It was how the two of them became friends... sharing a dorm.

"Des?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry about earlier. I should have been more sensitive."

"Yeah, you should have." She knew Anya'd be the first to apologize. It was just how the two of them worked. "It's fine. Whatever."

It might not have sounded like it, but she knew that Anya interpreted that as accepting her apology. If only she could say the same for her parents... but how can an apology be enough with something like that hidden since birth?

Des shook the thought out of her mind, knowing they would have a day full of classes and bullying firsties to get through tomorrow, and fell asleep.


	5. Chapter 5

 

The rain subsided the following morning, though it was still quite gloomy throughout the day given the clouds in the Great Hall at breakfast. Des and Anya had already received their schedules for the term from Professor Snape and were comparing schedules over their breakfasts. It wasn't long before Gemma Farley, one of the Slytherin prefects, joined them. Des knew Gemma quite well; both of their families had been invited to the Malfoy's large-scale balls and events for years. Des, Gemma, Anya and a handful of other older Slytherins would hunt for where the Malfoy's kept the good liquor, once coming across Narcissa's elf-made wine cellar, which was the highlight of her holidays last Christmas.

Gemma slid the seat across from Des and Anya, pulling out her own schedule and slapping it on the table before putting sausages on her plate.

"Do either of you have Divination this morning?" Gemma asked before taking a bite of a sausage.

"I do," Anya said, "It's a crock of shit if you ask me."

"At least we won't have to deal with Trelawney's crazy ass by myself Monday mornings, eh?" Gemma sighed in relief through a mouthful of toast.

"What about Defense Against the Dark Arts?" Anya asked, running her finger down her schedule.

"I've got that in the afternoon with Ravenclaw," Des said, picking at the crust of her toast before nibbling at it.

"As do I," Gemma added, looking down her schedule, "I wonder what  _that's_  going to be like, with Mad-Eye Moody being professor and all."

"By the looks of him, it sounds like he's got some stories," Des said.

"I do miss Gilderoy, though," Anya sighed dreamily, "He may not have known what he was talking about but he definitely looked good standing at the head of a class."

Desdemona threw a balled-up napkin at Anya, who stuck her tongue out at Des. Typical of Anya to be fawning over Lockhart. She'd been devastated when he'd been obliviated and removed from teaching after the whole Chamber of Secrets fiasco, though it didn't take long, at the beginning of their sixth year, for Anya to move on to the newer teacher Professor Lupin, intrigued by his scruffy appearance. Though there were rumors about exactly why he looked like that. The crush didn't last long, though. Anya always moved on relatively fast and was over the scruffy professor in a matter of weeks.

"Speaking of class, we've ought to be going now," Gemma said, checking her watch, "don't want to miss any exciting lessons in double Divination this morning, do we?"

"Oh, I wouldn't miss it for the world," Anya said, a sarcastic bite in her voice as she rolled her eyes, "I can't wait to find out what effect the position of Saturn in relation to the fifth moon of Jupiter has on me this month."

"It's the third moon, for your information," Gemma said in a dreamy voice mocking professor Trelawney.

"And  _that_ is why I decided not to take Divination," Des said. The three of them laughed and Gemma and Anya said goodbye, leaving Des at the table alone. She looked down the rest of her schedule. Ancient Runes, Herbology, and double Transfiguration were the rest of the classes she had that day. She slung her bag over her shoulder, figuring she might as well make her way to class now, and started her walk to the Ancient Runes classroom.

Ancient Runes was by no means Des's favorite subject but she would rather translate pages and pages of runes than try to figure out how the stars affected her using some chart. Ancient Runes was nothing more than she expected and she wasn't surprised when Professor Babbling assigned a foot and a half of parchment of translated runes by the next week. It wasn't difficult work, however, and Des could probably finish it that night, depending on what homework the rest of her classes assigned.

She met up with Anya and Gemma in the yard during their break. The halls were filled with students trying to find their classes, mostly first years trying to find where they were going. Des had to push a fair few of them out of her way as she was leaving Ancient Runes to make it down to meet her friends before their break between classes ended.

As she made her way to them, she could overhear them talking about Divination that morning.

"… and then she completely got my birth date wrong, which basically contradicted everything she told me to draw on the chart," Gemma said, sighing in irritation to a consoling Anya who was leaning against the stone wall and looking out at the courtyard.

"And you worked so hard to draw that chart out…"

"I suppose Divination wasn't what you expected it to be, hm?" Des said as she joined Anya against the wall.

They turned to greet her and Gemma let out a frustrated groan.

"It was terrible," Gemma said, "You were right about us thinking we were taking the easy way out with Divination."

"I, actually, think it's quite fascinating," Anya admitted, "Though Trelawney is completely insane, if we had someone who  _knew_  what they were talking about maybe Divination wouldn't be such a stupid course."

"Maybe  _you_  should come back and teach Divination, huh?" Gemma teased, "if you love it so much."

Anya rolled her eyes before turning over to Des.

"What about you, huh? What did Babbling give you for Ancient Runes?"

"Eighteen inches of translations due next Monday," Des said nonchalantly, "no big deal. I'll have it finished before the end of the week."

"We should have taken Ancient Runes," Gemma groaned, "now we're stuck with Tre-Loony for the rest of the year."

Des snickered at her luck before turning back to the crowded hallway where Prefects were trying to guide first years to their classes and help them navigate the moving staircases without getting off on the wrong floor, as so many had done before. She could hear Gemma and Anya beginning to talk about something else, possibly their Herbology class later. For a second, it felt almost normal for her, as if she hadn't found out some completely earth-shattering news before coming to Hogwarts this year. She would tell Gemma eventually, if she ever felt the time was right she supposed, though Gemma was a bit of a gossiper and Des didn't want such sensitive information getting out about her. Perhaps she would be able to survive her seventh year without any sort of mishap due to how unclear her past was to her now. Des looked down at her watch before turning back to her friends.

"It's almost 11, shall we head down to the greenhouses?" Des said, adjusting her bag on her shoulder.

"I suppose," Gemma said, "Can't wait to find out what we're going to be doing with dirt today, eh?" Anya said, pushing herself off the wall and beginning the walk down with Des and Gemma.

Herbology had to be one of Des's least favorite school subjects. She hated the dirt and hated that Sprout seemed to have a personal vendetta against her. It could have been that Sprout sensed her lack of enthusiasm or just plain bad luck that she always seemed to be the one demonstrating what a plant could do. They were to pair up and begin learning how to extract Frankincense oil and to begin harvesting the resin from their trees to extract oil from them for use in the Hospital Wing. Lucky for her, this did not require Sprout to pick on , however, pairing up usually meant that Anya and Gemma would work together and Des was left with whoever else she could stand to work with. Today, it was Thomas Avery that she decided to work with. He was a smart ass but he wasn't daft by any means. He and Des often shared several opinions and, if he didn't spend all his time with the Quidditch team, she probably would have hung out with him instead of Anya and Gemma.

Lunch had come and gone after that and Transfiguration as well. At 2 o'clock, Des's classes were done for the day and she took off back to her dorm to drop off her things. Any and Gemma had decided not to go but Thomas offered to walk with her back to the dungeons, striking up a conversation about the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor as they made their way down the stairs.

"I hear he can see out the back of his head with that eye," Thomas said.

"You never took me for the type to believe any rumors, Avery," Des said, looking over at him almost condescendingly.

"I never said I believed it," he defended, "I said I'd  _heard_  about it. Hearing and believing are two different things."

"Then I suppose we'll find out if he can see through the back of that head of his when we have Defense Against the Dark Arts on Wednesday, eh?" Des said, smirking at him before they came across the dungeon entrance. She gave the password and they entered the common room, going their separate ways as Des made her way up to the girls' dormitories to begin her Ancient Runes translation until it was time for dinner. She had let time get away from her and knew that there would possibly be a crowd in the entrance hall.

Des met up with Any and Gemma in the queue as they were talking with Daphne Greengrass, a fourth year Slytherin, who was telling them about her experience in Moody's class. Apparently, he had shown them The Unforgiveable Curses and Daphne was pretty shaken by it. Des was just about her ask her some more about the class, figuring that if he was showing fourth years Unforgiveables, he'd more than likely show the seventh years something even worse, when she heard a commotion from the end of the line, a curse flying back and nearly missing the Potter kid before she heard a gruff shout and saw another spell fly. She turned, expected to see a cursed student but instead saw a bright white ferret in between Crabbe and Goyle… a ferret that would, by assumption, have been the Malfoy brat.

The hall went silent as Moody walked down, Des and her friends unable to do anything but stare in horror at a professor who had just transfigured a student. Draco tried to bolt for the dungeons, Moody levitating him with his wand and bouncing him up before Professor McGonagall entered to stop the madness. This was when everyone decided to turn away, McGonagall's shrill voice scolding Moody about how Transfiguration was not a punishment.

Finally, after moments of uncomfortable silence, the Great Hall opened for dinner and students filed in. Des head straight for the Slytherin table, the moment still ringing in her mind as the entire hall began talking about what had happened. She didn't have Defense Against the Dark Arts until Wednesday but she knew, after today, that whatever she had expected that class to be, it wasn't that.


	6. Chapter 6

On Wednesday, Des, Gemma, Anya, and Thomas walked into their first day of Defense Against the Dark Arts. They didn't quite know what to expect and had heard different stories from every house and every school level. He had spooked a majority of the fourth years by showing them the Unforgiveables in class. Of course, Des knew that if she were to join the legion of their patron it would entail using quite a few of these but she knew that it would get her in trouble, should she choose to use them in school. Des wanted to learn, she truly did, but she was not stupid. There would be no joining the cause if she got expelled.

Attempting to rid herself of any expectations she had for the class, she walked in with her friends and found seats towards the middle of the class. She knew that sitting either at the very front or the very back meant that she would be more conspicuous to the professor and that's not what she wanted. If Moody was going to do something odd today, she didn't want to have to be called up as an example.

Moody hobbled in, his magical eye swiveling around in his head as if it were taking in each one of their faces. The eye lingered on her for a split second and she felt her stomach tense, almost making her ill. That big glassy eye made her uneasy.

The class was uneventful, much to Desdemona's surprise. Professor Moody had asked what they had learned to that point and had fashioned some sort of a review for them, with a promise that at the end of the class, he would get started on the next topic, which would be harmful spells and Unforgiveables, which were already seventh year material. Meaning that he had been covering advanced material with the underclassmen. It wasn't long before Moody abandoned the review, however, and began talking about past experiences that ended up capturing the attention of everyone in class. They had spent the whole class listening to Moody's auror stories and soon the bell had rung for the end of the period before they had even gotten to the new material.

Desdemona left the class with Anya and Gemma almost disappointed. All the underclassmen had hyped up the idea of having Moody as a professor, talking about how he demonstrated all sorts of advanced magic, even demonstrating some forms of dark magic, and her class didn't once get to see anything like that.

"You bummed about today, Dolohov?" Thomas asked, catching up with them and falling into her stride. She had almost forgotten that it wasn't her true surname.

"Not necessarily," Des said, shrugging, "I expected more, that's for sure."

"His old auror stories weren't enough for you?" Gemma said, "I've heard other students talk about dark magic demonstrations and I think I'd rather just listen to the stories."

"Yeah, Farley, but you don't seem to be interested in that sort of thing anyway," Thomas said, causing Des to snicker. Gemma huffed and turned away from the two of them.

"You don't suppose your reaction to the class had to do with what your plans are for after school, do you?" Thomas asked, his tone changing from his usual mocking jeer to something more serious. Des knew that Thomas planned to take the same path she did, though they've never really spoken about it before. Des looked over at Anya and Gemma, carrying on a conversation of their own, before turning back to Thomas and dropping the volume of her voice.

"Possibly," she admitted, realizing that may have been it. She already knew that schooling would be biased. Obviously, nobody else had wanted a return of the Dark Lord and Des tried her hardest to hide her political leanings in school, save for small moments like these with people like Thomas. "I don't know… I thought that it would offer some sort of insight that my father wouldn't provide. I should have known that it would have ended up biased."

"Perhaps you're the biased one, eh Dolohov?" There was the usual tone, back again. Des smiled, jabbing Thomas with her elbow.

"Your opinion is the same as mine, genius," she said, "that makes you biased, too."

Des laughed as Thomas was left without a final argument, the four of them heading to Charms class, where they would be perfecting their anti-unlocking charms until the end of the class, the rest of their lives proceeding as usual at school until the week before October 30th. Anya, Gemma, and Des approached the entrance hall after their classes had concluded, the sound of the large crowd that had accumulated in the hall echoing on the stone walls as Des could see a large sign that was put up.

"What does that say," Anya asked, tiptoeing at the very back of the crowd to try and get a look. Gemma forged forward, pushing people out of her way as she tried to make a path for Anya and Des to read what was on the large sign near the grand staircase.

**TRIWIZARD TOURNAMENT**

**_The delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will  
be arriving at 6 o'clock on Friday the 30_ _th_ _of October._ **  
**_Lessons will end half an hour early. Students will return_**  
**_their bags and books to their dormitories and assemble in front_ **  
****_of the castle to greet our guests before the Welcoming Feast._

"The visiting schools are arriving already?" Gemma asked a student next to her, who nodded in confirmation. Gemma turned back to Anya and Des in excitement. "Next week, you two!"

The three of them broke away from the crowd and began making their way to the dungeons, their original destination before the crowd in the entrance hall stopped them.

"What do you think the visiting schools will be like?" Gemma asked, "I heard Viktor Krum will be among the visiting students from Durmstrang!"

"The world-famous Seeker, Viktor Krum?" Anya asked, almost swooning.

"Do you think the boys from Beauxbatons will live up to the expectations that Durmstrang is setting?" Des asked, looking over at her two friends, already trying to plan a way to be noticed by the visiting boys.

"I heard they're as beautiful as the girls are," Anya said, "I can appreciate a good French boy."

"I don't know..." Gemma said, Des could tell she was already comparing the two in her head, "There's something about a hardened Scandinavian man."

Des stopped dead in her tracks, looking over at Anya before bursting out into laughter that almost reduced them to tears. Gemma turned around and frowned at the two of them.

"What?"

" _Hardened Scandinavian man_? Can you hear yourself, Gemma?" Des said through giggles, "They're just boys!"

"That's where you're wrong, though, Des," Anya said, "These could possibly be future husbands. You never know!"

"I still think you both are taking this too seriously. They're here for a tournament, not a bride," Des said, collecting herself before they continued down to the dungeons. Anya said the password and the trio entered the Slytherin common room, Thomas sitting and reading in the corner near a fireplace catching Des's eye. She told Gemma and Anya that she was going to talk to him really quickly, prompting two very knowing looks from her friends before she shooed them away and made her way across the common room.

"You look a little lonely, Avery," Des said, falling onto the plush couch next to him, "All your friends up at the entrance hall?"

"I don't need friends, as a matter of fact. And I was  _enjoying_  the peace until a little nuisance decided to show up," Thomas teased, closing his book, "What's in the entrance hall?"

"You haven't heard?" Des said, genuinely surprised, "The visiting schools are arriving next week."

" _Are_  they? That would explain the sudden discussion on Beauxbatons girls in the boy's dormitories."

"Yep. Classes end half an hour earlier and we're to greet them in front of the castle as they arrive," Des said.

"The  _one good thing_  to come out of this whole tournament," Thomas said, "classes ending half an hour early."

"I suppose. Gemma's about ready to look for a husband from Durmstrang, though, so I assume she would beg to differ."

"Gemma's a bit of an acquired taste, isn't she?"

"You could say that," Des admitted, "she does come on a bit strong but it doesn't take long to get used to her."

"Tell that to the Durmstrang boys," Thomas said. Des chuckled at his joke, knowing that he wasn't serious. Gemma truly did take a bit of getting used to but she wasn't all bad. She had been Des's friend for the past seven years and that's not something that Des would just forget because she wasn't boy obsessed like Gemma or Anya.

"I've got to go get a jump start on some Ancient Runes homework but I'll see you at dinner," Des said, getting up and leaving Thomas at his fireplace.

"I'll save you a seat," Thomas said, winking up at her before opening his book once more. Her stomach tightened, almost nervously and she was grateful he looked down to read as she felt her face heat up with blush at her reaction. She adjusted her bag over her shoulder and made her way up to the girl's dormitories to start on her homework, hoping she wouldn't be too preoccupied with Thomas Avery.


	7. Chapter 7

The day of October 30th came around and the entire school was buzzing with excitement at the expected arrival of the visiting delegates. It was all anyone could talk about and Anya even woke Des up with how excited she was.

"It's a big day!" Anya said, ripping the curtain open on Des's bed, waking her up abruptly, "I'm trying to figure out if I should skip lunch to spruce up before last class, what do you think, Des?"

"I think you should let me sleep a little longer, thank you," Des groaned, rolling over and covering herself with another plush pillow. Anya scoffed at her and moved over to ask Gemma, who was up even earlier than she had been to find a way to wear her hair that would look best.

Not exactly how Des wanted to start her birthday off.

She was in a bad mood the rest of the morning, getting up on the wrong side of the bed. After she finally woke up that morning, she got dressed and headed down to breakfast where everyone was talking about the events that were to happen that afternoon. A frown cemented on her face, Des entered the Great Hall.

" _Des! Desdemona!_ " Thomas called from the Slytherin table, waving her over. She looked at him, raising an eyebrow in confusion before making her way over and taking a seat in front of him. She supposed he wanted to talk about how excited he was for the tournament and was already prepared to be disappointed in his topic of conversation.

"You look quite down this morning," Thomas observed, "get up on the wrong side of the bed, Dolohov?"

"You could say that," Des said, looking over at Anya almost bitterly as she chattered away with Gemma and Daphne Greengrass, no doubt about visiting boys.

"I may have something that'll cheer you up, at least," Thomas said, pushing a plate towards Des so she could begin eating.

"I doubt that but I'll watch you try," Des said, accepting the plate and putting some eggs and toast on it. She was about to select some bacon to put on her plate as well when Thomas pushed a small, silver wrapped box toward her.

"Happy birthday," he said, giving her the most genuine smile that she had ever seen Thomas give. She looked from him to the package, almost in shock that someone else had actually remembered her birthday in the commotion that the Triwizard Tournament had brought to their school. She wasn't sure of what to say at that moment, barely opening her mouth before the whooshing of the post owls. She looked up spotting her family's eagle owl, Ursula, with a parcel for her, just as she had expected. The owl swooped, landing next to her with a sizable package. She gave Ursula a healthy piece of bacon and sent her to off to the owlery to rest so she could write a letter back to her parents, the first time she would have spoken to them since her departure.

Des looked back up at Thomas, still unsure of what to say. She hadn't expected anyone to remember, let alone give her a gift.

"Open it," he said, taking a bite of toast, "It made me think of you."

Des looked down at the silver box, barely touching it before, at Thomas' insistence, she finally opened the silver paper and lifted the lid off the box to reveal a small silver bracelet with three small charms, all with engravings of runes: Uruz for strength of will, Wunjo for joy, and Ehwaz for companionship. It was very simple, very delicate, and very beautiful. Des was, once again, completely speechless.

"You've got an affinity for Ancient Runes," Thomas said, Des forgetting that he had been watching her open his gift.

"This is beautiful," she said, "You didn't have to."

"I wanted to," Thomas said, "A bloke can't get his friend a gift for her birthday?"

Des smiled at him before putting the bracelet on her wrist.

"Does it look okay?" She asked, holding her wrist out.

"Like it was meant for you," he smiled, giving her a wink that once against caused her stomach to turn into a nervous knot before he returned to his breakfast. She looked down at her own plate, beginning to eat so that she would be able to run to her dormitory and put her gift with her other things before their first class that morning.

Des could not go a second without hearing about the tournament that day. Not very many students were paying attention in class that day, frustrating the professors to no end. It was a relief when the bell rang early, everyone returning their bags to their dorms and made their way out to the front of the castle, Professor Snape ordering them into lines by year. Des and the rest of the seventh years were in the back of these lines, Anya pushing up against Gemma who was, in turn, pushing Des into Thomas. Mumbling an apology to him, she straightened up. It was getting dark and cold and she was wondering how much longer it would take before these guests got here.

"It's almost time!" Anya said, jumping up and down like an excited child on Christmas as she looked at her watch. "It's nearly six!"

They all turned back to look at Dumbledore as he called out something about the Beauxbatons delegates approaching, everyone else turning back toward the sky and letting out gasps of surprise. What approached from the skies looked, to Des, like a small box drawn by horses. However, that box soon grew as they approached, as did the winged horses and Des could hear waves of astonished whispers move through the crowd of Hogwarts students. Soon, it was evident that it was a horse drawn carriage, much larger than anything any of them had ever seen, complete with enormous winged horses.

The carriage landed roughly, a landing that Des couldn't imagine anyone would have been happy about, and the door to the large, powder blue carriage sprang open. Des, from the back, struggled to see exactly what exited the carriage first before she could see what she could only assume was a woman who  _had_ to be part giant. It didn't matter than Des couldn't see her exit the carriage because, once she had completely left and stood straight up, she and all the other seventh years could see her just as well as if they had been standing in front with the first years, decked out in black satin with her hair slicked back into a low bun.

Then there was applause, beginning with Dumbledore from behind them and continuing in a wave as every one of the Hogwarts students clapped for the landing of the Beauxbatons students. Dumbledore stood to greet them, several students emerging from the carriage after their extremely large headmistress. They looked as if they were shivering, though one look at their uniforms and it would have made sense that they had gotten cold. They were clad in pale blue silk, some wearing scarves and hats but none of them in cloaks heavy enough to shield them from the late-autumn chill blanketing the Hogwarts grounds. They quickly made their way inside, presumably to warm up, while the Hogwarts students were left to wait for the Durmstrang students to arrive.

It was quiet after the Beauxbatons students left them for the warmth of the inside of the castle, the only sound being the snorting and stamping of the gigantic horses before one fourth year Gryffindor pointed toward the lake. Everyone turned to look, following the sound of the lake being disturbed. A small whirlpool appeared in the dark, glassy water, a black pole exiting the whirlpool slowly until you could see sails.

"Would you look at that," Thomas said, whistling in astonishment, "A whole ship."

And it was a whole ship. It rose from the whirlpool, looking eerily like a ghost ship had entered the lake. It felt so out of place, and a bit unsettling. If Des had not known that these were visiting students, she would have assumed that more than just the castle had ghosts. Finally, the ship docked on the shore of the lake, a plank lowering to the muddy bank with a thud. They watched as silhouettes left the ship, coming down the plank and up the shores. As if the opposite of Beauxbatons, these students donned thick, fur cloaks. A new wave of whispers began to travel up the students from Hogwarts as the Durmstrang group approached, greeted by Dumbledore.

"Des! Des, it's Viktor Krum! I told you!" Anya gushed, her eyes locked on the younger man next to the headmaster of Durmstrang. Des looked over at Thomas, who seemed just as enamored as Anya was, though Des knew why. Thomas was a Quidditch player and was, no doubt, in the presence of one of his heroes. She could hear several other students squabbling over whether they should try to get an autograph as the Hogwarts students filed into the entrance hall behind Durmstrang, making their way to the Great Hall. The houses each sat at their respective tables, Beauxbatons decided to take seats with Ravenclaw while someone managed to convince Durmstrang to sit with the Slytherins. It caused some excitement among her housemates, all of them wanting to move down to be close to the visiting school and Quidditch legend. While Des didn't care much for Quidditch, she did take notice that the Durmstrang party seemed much nicer than the Beauxbatons group, who all had various looks of unimpressed boredom on their faces.

Soon the feast began and a wide assortment of dishes rose from the empty golden platters in the middle of the table, including dishes that Des had never seen. She kept her dinner safe, opting for her usual steak and kidney pie over what she assumed was some sort of fish delicacy from Scandinavia. After the feast, Dumbledore introduced Ludo Bagman and Barty Crouch Sr., who organized the tournament. There was a round of applause before Dumbledore announced that they, among the headmasters of the schools, would be on the panel of judges for the champions, before calling Filch to bring in "the casket."

"That sounds quite sinister, doesn't it?" Des asked Thomas, who was sitting beside her, "The casket."

"I wonder what could be in it to have such a sinister name, eh?"

Filch wheeled in a grand, jewel encrusted trunk, excited murmurs buzzing through the hall as he made his way down the aisle between tables to the table where the professors sat.

"There will be three tasks, spaced throughout the school year, and they will test the champions in many different ways… their magical prowess – their daring – their powers of deduction – and, of course, their ability to cope with danger," Dumbledore began. The whole room waited for him to go on.

"As you know, three champions compete in the tournament, one from each of the participating schools. They will be marked on how well the perform each of the tournament tasks and the champion with the highest total after task three will win the Triwizard Cup. The champions will be chosen by an impartial selector: the Goblet of Fire."

Dumbledore took out his wand, tapping the chest. The lid creaked open and inside was a large, wooden cup.

"That was quite anticlimactic, wasn't it?" Thomas leaned over to whisper, causing Des to snicker in the silence before looking back at it. One more look at it and Des noticed that it was full to the brim with bright, blue fire.

"Anybody wishing to submit themselves as a champion must write their name and school clearly upon a slip of parchment and drop it into the goblet," Dumbledore said as he placed the cup on top of the casket, "Aspiring champions have twenty-four hours in which to put their names forward. Tomorrow night, Halloween, the goblet will return the names of the three it has judged most worthy to represent their schools. The goblet will be placed in the entrance hall tonight, where it will be freely accessible to all those wishing to compete.

"To ensure that no underage student yields to temptation, I will be drawing an Age Line around the Goblet of Fire once it has been placed in the entrance hall. Nobody under the age of seventeen will be able to cross the line.

Dumbledore went on to explain the danger of the tournament, offering a disclaimer to those who still wanted to enter that, should their name be chosen by the Goblet of Fire, it would be magically binding and that there was no change of heart once someone became a champion before dismissing them for bed.

Des could hear the chorus of disappointed groans about the Age Line, upset that there would be no way to enter if they did not become seventeen within the twenty-four hours that the cup was available.

"You going to enter your name?" Thomas asked as they walked back to the dungeons.

"I wasn't thinking about it," Des said, "If I did, I wouldn't want to do it alone at least."

"I say we enter."

"We enter a magically binding contract that won't let us drop out should we decide that we  _don't_  want the glory of winning an age old tournament for our school?"

"When you put it like that it makes it sounds so… dangerous."

"And it is?"

"I still say we enter," Thomas said, "Let's do it together."

Des had to admit, the idea of meeting up with Thomas to do anything together, even submit their names for the ultimate death competition, seemed nice. She wasn't sure what was going on with her or why she suddenly started reacting to Thomas this way but she decided, ultimately, that she would.

"Fine," she said, "I'll meet you in the entrance hall tomorrow morning and we'll put our names in together."

"Is that a deal?" Thomas asked, putting his hand out for Des to shake on it. She took his hand firmly.

"It's a deal."


	8. Chapter 8

The castle was buzzing the next morning with talk about the tournament. The Hufflepuffs were over the moon with having Cedric Diggory as representative for Hogwarts… or _one_ of the representatives. Everyone was mostly talking about how Potter might have entered his name despite being three years younger than permitted for entry. Several people thought that Dumbledore wouldn’t allow it and that Potter wasn’t able to participate. However, that was shut down after some research when people learned that it was true that you were magically bound to compete, meaning Potter couldn’t just be taken out of the competition. Des sat at breakfast Sunday morning forced to listen to the other Slytherins sneer about it, particularly Draco who, being obsessed with one-upping Potter since their very first day at Hogwarts, was muttering bitterly to Crabbe and Goyle over his eggs.

It was no surprise that Potter would end up competing. These things tended to happen when Potter was around. The last three years since he had started at Hogwarts had been riddled with mishaps that all seemed to be a result of his being there. She was raised on the story of how he destroyed the Dark Lord, as were many other wizarding children no matter whether their upbringing taught them it was a bad thing or a good thing. She was raised to see it as negative, that he was the reason they had been defeated, and she found it relatively easy to dislike him seeing how much trouble he always seemed to cause.

Des heard the familiar voices of Gemma and Anya approaching and looked up from her bowl of porridge to see her two friends walking over. They sat down across from her and Des could finally hear that even they were gossiping about the Potter kid.

“He probably won’t last past the first task,” Gemma said, “if Dumbledore wouldn’t let anyone under the age of seventeen enter the tournament, it’s got to be something dangerous.”

“I wonder what the first task is…” Anya wondered aloud, turning to Des, “what do you think it’ll be?”

“I don’t know but do you think your first task could be to stop talking about last night?” Des said, snapping more than she meant to at her too friends. Anya recoiled, as if she’d been slapped, and gave Des a concerned look.

“Are you alright?” she asked Des, “You’re never this cross with us about anything.”

“Is something bothering you?” Gemma chimed in.

“Is it your parents?” Anya asked, “about the… the thing?”

“What thing?” Gemma asked, suddenly curious as to what her two friends were keeping from us. Des shot Anya a look that clearly could have torn right through her and Anya panicked for a second.

“Oh, come on, Des, you weren’t planning on telling her at all?”

“I did want to keep it from as many people as possible,” Des said, throwing her spoon down into her porridge.

“Tell me what?” Gemma questioned, as confused as ever, “What were you keeping from me?”

Des looked between an apologetic Anya and a curious Gemma before sighing and pinching the bridge of her nose.

“If I tell you, it has to be somewhere else,” she said, standing up from the table and walked from the Great Hall, Anya and Gemma quickly standing to follow her. She stopped right before the muddy shore of the lake, the water a steely grey in the light of the overcast morning as it lapped at the hull of Durmstrang’s ship. Des was sure that they wouldn’t be heard out there by anyone that mattered. At the very most, one of the Durmstrang students would hear that a Hogwarts kid was adopted and think nothing of it.

“What I tell you cannot leave the three of us, do you understand me?” Des lowered her voice, her tone so serious the Gemma seemed taken aback, too shocked to answer. “Do you understand me, Gemma?”

“Y-Yes,” Gemma squeaked. Des looked between Anya and Gemma before looking around at the grounds to make sure that nobody was near enough to hear.

“This summer, right before we were set to go back to school,” Des began, Gemma hanging on her every word. “my parents called me to meet with them and told me that… that I’m not a Dolohov by blood.”

It was silent between the three of them as Des waited for Gemma’s reaction.

“What?”

“Apparently, I was left on my parents’ doorstep for their house elf to find.”

Realization dawned on Gemma as she finally understood what Des was trying to tell her.

“You’re adopted!” she cried, Anya and Des furiously shushing her so that they wouldn’t draw attention to themselves. Gemma mumbled an apology before continuing in a whisper, “What does this mean for you? What are you going to do?”

“Well, it’s not like I’m to inherit anything large anyway. Even if I was a Dolohov by blood, Dmitri is already the heir.”

“But… but now you don’t know where you come from,” Gemma said, Des detecting a hint of pity in her voice.

“I… I don’t but that doesn’t seem to bother my parents,” Des said, recalling the letter she wrote after her birthday telling her parents that it would take a while more to adjust to the new information but she was no longer angry. The response letter from them was more than relieved that things would no longer be tense in the household.

“But does it bother you, Des?” Anya asked, something she had never gotten to ask when she found out, given how bitter Des was about it. Des was quiet, unsure of how to answer. She didn’t want it to bother her anymore. Her parents truly did not mind that she was not their true child so why should she? It wasn’t as if they would cut her out of their will. Just as Anya had said in the train, they raised her. They were, for all intents and purposes, her parents.

“Not anymore,” she said finally, “It’s just a name.”

“But if anyone else finds out…” Gemma started.

“Nobody else _will_ find out, will they?” Des interrupted, “Just because I’ve said it doesn’t bother me doesn’t mean I want others to know. I would be _ridiculed,_ especially by other purer houses than mine, for talking so highly of blood purity without knowing the status of my own.”

“Technically _not_ your house, considering you’re–” Gemma began again before Anya elbowed her sharply in the ribs.

“Shut _up_ , Gemma,” Anya hissed at her as she glared back, her hand rubbing where Anya’s elbow had dug into her side. “We aren’t to tell anybody. That’s not what _loyal_ friends would do.”

Des looked between the two of them. Gemma was an idiot, she truly was, but Des knew that she would not be the type to spill this secret just because she knew it.

“Does Avery know?” Gemma asked, lifting an eyebrow at Des. She knew they would grill her about Thomas but this was not something she was planning on telling him. Ever.

“No, he doesn’t know,” Des admitted, “and he never will.”

“Worried he won’t like you anymore if he finds out your blood status is unsure?” Anya asked as they began to walk back toward the castle.

“It’s… it’s not about _that_!”

“Doesn’t sound like it,” Gemma snickered, “besides, everyone knows he’s had a crush on you since third year.”

“What?”

“You couldn’t tell? Everyone else could! Other Slytherins would take the mickey out of him all the time for it. You never thought about who could have sent you those Chocolate Cauldrons on Valentine’s Day fifth year?”

“That was _Avery_?” Des exclaimed, “I thought it was one of you trying to prank me! I didn’t even eat them because I thought you lot had tampered with them!”

That would explain why Thomas refused to speak to her for a good week after she publicly threw out the cauldrons to thwart what she thought was an attempted love potion spike by Gemma and Anya.

“And where exactly did you get that bracelet?” Anya asked, picking up Des’s wrist.

“It was a birthday gift… from Avery,” Des mumbled as she looked at the bracelet dangling underneath her watch. She stopped dead in her tracks, stopping Gemma and Anya as well as she thought about what they were insisting. Sure, he was nice to her and nice to hang around with. They got along well but she never thought to associate that with the fact that he _liked_ her.

“You keep saying you don’t want to discuss it but you’re going to have to one of these days,” Gemma said, “And who better to discuss it with than us, who have witnessed every bit of this since third year.”

“If I _did_ like him, I wouldn’t know what to do,” Des said, moving so that they would continue their way up to the castle. “It’s been obvious to everyone else that he’s liked me. I wouldn’t know what to do or say.”

“Just come out and say it!” Gemma said, “blokes love when girls can tell them straight up how they feel.”

“I don’t know. It doesn’t feel… right, right now.” Des said.

“And why not?” Anya asked, turning around and stepping in front of Des to prevent her from walking any further. “What’s going on right now that’s preventing you from being honest with him?”

“I’ve been… freezing him out,” Des admitted, lowering her gaze, “to stop you lot from asking about it.”

The two girls looked at one another being rolling their eyes.

“We were just joking with you!” Gemma said, exasperated.

“We didn’t know you might have liked him the same way! It’s not like we were trying to force you two together!”

Never did Des think that the struggles that came with school would include struggles with a love life. Though she understood that Gemma and Anya didn’t mean to take the piss out of her, it was still quite frustrating, especially now that she was unsure just how she felt about Thomas.

“Let’s just drop it for now, okay?” Des suggested, walking back to the castle with Gemma and Anya. “I’ll see what happens with Thomas on my own. I’ll just have to come up with an excuse for why I froze him out last night.”

“Just tell him you’re on your period or something,” Anya said passively, causing Gemma to giggle and Des to stare at her, completely appalled.

“That is _not_ something that Avery needs to be made aware of, Yaxley!” Des cried, stopping in her tracks, her face turning pink.

Her two friends chuckled at her and continued, leaving her standing there before she jogged after them up to the castle.


	9. Chapter 9

The castle was buzzing the next morning with talk about the tournament. The Hufflepuffs were over the moon with having Cedric Diggory as representative for Hogwarts… or one of the representatives. Everyone was mostly talking about how Potter might have entered his name despite being three years younger than permitted for entry. Several people thought that Dumbledore wouldn't allow it and that Potter wasn't able to participate. However, that was shut down after some research when people learned that it was true that you were magically bound to compete, meaning Potter couldn't just be taken out of the competition. Des sat at breakfast Sunday morning forced to listen to the other Slytherins sneer about it, particularly Draco who, being obsessed with one-upping Potter since their very first day at Hogwarts, was muttering bitterly to Crabbe and Goyle over his eggs.

It was no surprise that Potter would end up competing. These things tended to happen when Potter was around. The last three years since he had started at Hogwarts had been riddled with mishaps that all seemed to be a result of his being there. She was raised on the story of how he destroyed the Dark Lord, as were many other wizarding children no matter whether their upbringing taught them it was a bad thing or a good thing. She was raised to see it as negative, that he was the reason they had been defeated, and she found it relatively easy to dislike him seeing how much trouble he always seemed to cause.

Des heard the familiar voices of Gemma and Anya approaching and looked up from her bowl of porridge to see her two friends walking over. They sat down across from her and Des could finally hear that even they were gossiping about the Potter kid.

"He probably won't last past the first task," Gemma said, "if Dumbledore wouldn't let anyone under the age of seventeen enter the tournament, it's got to be something dangerous."

"I wonder what the first task is…" Anya wondered aloud, turning to Des, "what do you think it'll be?"

"I don't know but do you think your first task could be to stop talking about last night?" Des said, snapping more than she meant to at her too friends. Anya recoiled, as if she'd been slapped, and gave Des a concerned look.

"Are you alright?" she asked Des, "You're never this cross with us about anything."

"Is something bothering you?" Gemma chimed in.

"Is it your parents?" Anya asked, "about the… the thing?"

"What thing?" Gemma asked, suddenly curious as to what her two friends were keeping from us. Des shot Anya a look that clearly could have torn right through her and Anya panicked for a second.

"Oh, come on, Des, you weren't planning on telling her at all?"

"I did want to keep it from as many people as possible," Des said, throwing her spoon down into her porridge.

"Tell me what?" Gemma questioned, as confused as ever, "What were you keeping from me?"

Des looked between an apologetic Anya and a curious Gemma before sighing and pinching the bridge of her nose.

"If I tell you, it has to be somewhere else," she said, standing up from the table and walked from the Great Hall, Anya and Gemma quickly standing to follow her. She stopped right before the muddy shore of the lake, the water a steely grey in the light of the overcast morning as it lapped at the hull of Durmstrang's ship. Des was sure that they wouldn't be heard out there by anyone that mattered. At the very most, one of the Durmstrang students would hear that a Hogwarts kid was adopted and think nothing of it.

"What I tell you cannot leave the three of us, do you understand me?" Des lowered her voice, her tone so serious the Gemma seemed taken aback, too shocked to answer. "Do you understand me, Gemma?"

"Y-Yes," Gemma squeaked. Des looked between Anya and Gemma before looking around at the grounds to make sure that nobody was near enough to hear.

"This summer, right before we were set to go back to school," Des began, Gemma hanging on her every word. "my parents called me to meet with them and told me that… that I'm not a Dolohov by blood."

It was silent between the three of them as Des waited for Gemma's reaction.

"What?"

"Apparently, I was left on my parents' doorstep for their house elf to find."

Realization dawned on Gemma as she finally understood what Des was trying to tell her.

"You're adopted!" she cried, Anya and Des furiously shushing her so that they wouldn't draw attention to themselves. Gemma mumbled an apology before continuing in a whisper, "What does this mean for you? What are you going to do?"

"Well, it's not like I'm to inherit anything large anyway. Even if I was a Dolohov by blood, Dmitri is already the heir."

"But… but now you don't know where you come from," Gemma said, Des detecting a hint of pity in her voice.

"I… I don't but that doesn't seem to bother my parents," Des said, recalling the letter she wrote after her birthday telling her parents that it would take a while more to adjust to the new information but she was no longer angry. The response letter from them was more than relieved that things would no longer be tense in the household.

"But does it bother you, Des?" Anya asked, something she had never gotten to ask when she found out, given how bitter Des was about it. Des was quiet, unsure of how to answer. She didn't want it to bother her anymore. Her parents truly did not mind that she was not their true child so why should she? It wasn't as if they would cut her out of their will. Just as Anya had said in the train, they raised her. They were, for all intents and purposes, her parents.

"Not anymore," she said finally, "It's just a name."

"But if anyone else finds out…" Gemma started.

"Nobody else will find out, will they?" Des interrupted, "Just because I've said it doesn't bother me doesn't mean I want others to know. I would be ridiculed, especially by other purer houses than mine, for talking so highly of blood purity without knowing the status of my own."

"Technically not your house, considering you're–" Gemma began again before Anya elbowed her sharply in the ribs.

"Shut up, Gemma," Anya hissed at her as she glared back, her hand rubbing where Anya's elbow had dug into her side. "We aren't to tell anybody. That's not what loyal friends would do."

Des looked between the two of them. Gemma was an idiot, she truly was, but Des knew that she would not be the type to spill this secret just because she knew it.

"Does Avery know?" Gemma asked, lifting an eyebrow at Des. She knew they would grill her about Thomas but this was not something she was planning on telling him. Ever.

"No, he doesn't know," Des admitted, "and he never will."

"Worried he won't like you anymore if he finds out your blood status is unsure?" Anya asked as they began to walk back toward the castle.

"It's… it's not about that!"

"Doesn't sound like it," Gemma snickered, "besides, everyone knows he's had a crush on you since third year."

"What?"

"You couldn't tell? Everyone else could! Other Slytherins would take the mickey out of him all the time for it. You never thought about who could have sent you those Chocolate Cauldrons on Valentine's Day fifth year?"

"That was Avery?" Des exclaimed, "I thought it was one of you trying to prank me! I didn't even eat them because I thought you lot had tampered with them!"

That would explain why Thomas refused to speak to her for a good week after she publicly threw out the cauldrons to thwart what she thought was an attempted love potion spike by Gemma and Anya.

"And where exactly did you get that bracelet?" Anya asked, picking up Des's wrist.

"It was a birthday gift… from Avery," Des mumbled as she looked at the bracelet dangling underneath her watch. She stopped dead in her tracks, stopping Gemma and Anya as well as she thought about what they were insisting. Sure, he was nice to her and nice to hang around with. They got along well but she never thought to associate that with the fact that he liked her.

"You keep saying you don't want to discuss it but you're going to have to one of these days," Gemma said, "And who better to discuss it with than us, who have witnessed every bit of this since third year."

"If I did like him, I wouldn't know what to do," Des said, moving so that they would continue their way up to the castle. "It's been obvious to everyone else that he's liked me. I wouldn't know what to do or say."

"Just come out and say it!" Gemma said, "blokes love when girls can tell them straight up how they feel."

"I don't know. It doesn't feel… right, right now." Des said.

"And why not?" Anya asked, turning around and stepping in front of Des to prevent her from walking any further. "What's going on right now that's preventing you from being honest with him?"

"I've been… freezing him out," Des admitted, lowering her gaze, "to stop you lot from asking about it."

The two girls looked at one another being rolling their eyes.

"We were just joking with you!" Gemma said, exasperated.

"We didn't know you might have liked him the same way! It's not like we were trying to force you two together!"

Never did Des think that the struggles that came with school would include struggles with a love life. Though she understood that Gemma and Anya didn't mean to take the piss out of her, it was still quite frustrating, especially now that she was unsure just how she felt about Thomas.

"Let's just drop it for now, okay?" Des suggested, walking back to the castle with Gemma and Anya. "I'll see what happens with Thomas on my own. I'll just have to come up with an excuse for why I froze him out last night."

"Just tell him you're on your period or something," Anya said passively, causing Gemma to giggle and Des to stare at her, completely appalled.

"That is not something that Avery needs to be made aware of, Yaxley!" Des cried, stopping in her tracks, her face turning pink.

Her two friends chuckled at her and continued on, leaving her standing there before she jogged after them up to the castle.


End file.
